Since I’ve been writing my weekly reflections on gratitude, the whole idea of gratitude is something that has become such an important part of life to me. I am beginning to see that if you live a life of gratitude, things just look better, even in the darkest moments.
While sometimes my writings may seem trite and redundant, in all honesty, I do try to take a deep look at my life, my week and reflect on the many good things that have happened.
As always, I am most grateful for the people by whom I am surrounded. There are so many wonderfully amazing people I didn’t even know at this point two years ago who are absolutely family to me. People such as Trent, Jay, Kyle, Christopher and Grant have welcomed me into their lives as though it were the most natural of actions. For their friendship, their perspectives, protection and love beyond my ability to express is humbling. I’m honored to have such beautiful brothers in my life.
Life has a funny way of changing on us. The funny thing is, we may have an idea of where life will take us, but the map takes us on alternate routes. I’m grateful for the journey, even the bumps in the road. The bumps allow me to reflect and grow in ways that the smooth times never could.
I’m grateful for a faith that, although it has its peaks and valleys, has sustained me. I am more often in the valley than the peaks, but I know that a more powerful presence is always active in my life. I’m grateful for the individuals who introduced me to my life of faith. My faith in my God is one that is in a constant state of growing, understanding and journey towards peace. The faith I have today is not the faith I had in high school, college, or even ten years ago as I was in the final weeks of preparation for confirmation in the Catholic Church.
Here’s my confession: I’m grateful for all the wonderful things in my life—so many things that I truly don’t understand. I’m grateful for the indelible fingerprints left upon my heart and life by some of the most incredible people I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I’m grateful for where the journey has brought me, but even more grateful for what is yet to come. I am a flawed individual, but I’m grateful for mercy and the many afforded me. I’m grateful for you. Thank you for taking the time to read!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
WHAT MATTERS MOST
I’ve been having trouble the last few days trying to figure out something to write about. Tonight, I was listening to a song on the way home from work and it inspired me to take a look at what really matters most.
I’ve wrestled with so many thoughts. Does it matter that my relationship with my family of origin is practically nil? Not really. Does it matter that I feel like I’m stuck trying to figure out the next move in life is? Does it matter that I am wondering where I belong professionally? No.
What matters most is the day to day. What matters most is that I’m on a journey to discovering who I am. What matters most is that “family” can be anyone or anything I decide it to be. What matters most is the sense of self that is emerging. What really matters is that I don’t wallow in self-pity—though I think it would be allowed after some of the things I’ve been though over the last year or so.
Here’s my confession: What matters is that I am surrounded by people who support me. I’m surrounded by a family of my own making. What matters most to me is that even at my loneliest, most difficult moments, I have something money can’t buy. I have friends. See, what I’m trying to say, is that with all the “stuff” in life, with all the trials, the struggles, the worries, the frustrations, fears; with all the happiness, the joy, the excitement and good things, that what matters most in my life isn’t the “things” that I have or don’t have. It’s the people who are by my side figuratively and literally each and every step each and every single day. The most important things in life aren’t things. They are the people, the memories, the love that we hold so dear.
I’ve wrestled with so many thoughts. Does it matter that my relationship with my family of origin is practically nil? Not really. Does it matter that I feel like I’m stuck trying to figure out the next move in life is? Does it matter that I am wondering where I belong professionally? No.
What matters most is the day to day. What matters most is that I’m on a journey to discovering who I am. What matters most is that “family” can be anyone or anything I decide it to be. What matters most is the sense of self that is emerging. What really matters is that I don’t wallow in self-pity—though I think it would be allowed after some of the things I’ve been though over the last year or so.
Here’s my confession: What matters is that I am surrounded by people who support me. I’m surrounded by a family of my own making. What matters most to me is that even at my loneliest, most difficult moments, I have something money can’t buy. I have friends. See, what I’m trying to say, is that with all the “stuff” in life, with all the trials, the struggles, the worries, the frustrations, fears; with all the happiness, the joy, the excitement and good things, that what matters most in my life isn’t the “things” that I have or don’t have. It’s the people who are by my side figuratively and literally each and every step each and every single day. The most important things in life aren’t things. They are the people, the memories, the love that we hold so dear.
Monday, February 1, 2010
SOMEWHERE BEYOND
Somewhere beyond the confusion of today
Somewhere beyond the yearnings for yesterday
Somewhere beyond the madness of the morrows,
There is peace.
Somewhere beyond the resentment
Somewhere beyond the disdain
Somewhere beyond the silence
There is healing.
Somewhere beyond the questions
Somewhere beyond the answers
Somewhere beyond the truth
There is clarity.
Somewhere beyond the hurt feelings
Somewhere beyond the harsh words
Somewhere beyond the disappointments
There is reconciliation.
Somewhere beyond the mistakes
Somewhere beyond the successes
Somewhere beyond the pointing of fingers
There is forgiveness.
Somewhere beyond the peace
Somewhere beyond the healing
Somewhere beyond the clarity
Somewhere beyond the reconciliation
Somewhere beyond the forgiveness
There is closure.
Here’s my confession: One day it will come. The peace, the healing, the clarity, the reconciliation and beyond the forgiveness, there is closure. Whether that healing comes in the living years,or during the final good-bye, I have to rest in the peace that I’ve reached out. I’ve sought peace. Someday it will happen, suddenly—living or dead—and I will emerge clothed in peace. Silence will be replaced with answers, and answers with peace. Somewhere, I have to think that perhaps she(my mother)is out there wondering about me, too. Somewhere there's a path. Somewhere, Somewhere beyond…
Sunday, January 31, 2010
GOODBYE, HOUSE ON LOT NUMBER NINE
January 31, 2010
Dear House,
This letter is bittersweet because its writing signifies the closing of one very important chapter of my adult life. It makes final the ending of a relationship, a struggle with finances and burden of inconveniences which defy words.
The first time I walked through your doors, I thought you were beautiful. You were so spacious. You had an upstairs, a downstairs and a beautiful staircase. You had a garage. You had a jetted tub! You were PERFECT!!! You were the next logical step in a relationship for Parker and me. You were the home to our prized and cherished possessions. Your expansive rooms gave our cats a place to place and play and explore. Just a few short weeks after our first visit and in what seemed like a whirlwind of activity, Parker and I found ourselves living inside your walls.
You were a shelter and briefly a home for two individuals who believed themselves in love. Yours were the walls where from within I found my voice, my strength, my courage. You were the place were tears were shed, smiles were exchanged, and love was shared. You were the place where some dreams were realized and still others were crushed. And still, hope lived on. You were the place where memories were made.
The day after closing on the house, my life-long dream of owning a baby grand piano come to reality. In your walls I was allowed to foster my skills as a pianist. You also were the birthplace of this blog. So many wonderful things came about within your walls. There were celebrations with friends inside your walls.
Some have questioned why we would live so far away from the city, far away from work and social activities. And, yes, the drive did become tiresome. The difficulty of maintaining the house became too much mentally, emotionally and financially. But that wasn’t your fault. You are four beautiful walls—walls, I suppose I’ll always remember.
Here’s my confession: Today, as I walked through you for what would be my final time, I reflected on the good times, the memories, the joy you brought into my life. I thought of the friends in the neighborhood I wouldn’t have known had it not been for your location. I thought of Parker, fondly, as I remembered the few months we shared there as a couple. For, it is on this date that I also remember the decision Parker and I made two years ago today, January 31, 2008, to separate as a couple.
I have no doubt that one day a fine family will once again inhabit your walls again. I hope for them that you will continue to provide warmth, shelter and a place where memories will flourish. For me, dear house, you provided so many wonderful opportunities. Regrets? Yes, I have a few. But, I’m thankful for the time we shared, for the memories I hold dear and for the hope I have of brighter days ahead.
Dear House,
This letter is bittersweet because its writing signifies the closing of one very important chapter of my adult life. It makes final the ending of a relationship, a struggle with finances and burden of inconveniences which defy words.
The first time I walked through your doors, I thought you were beautiful. You were so spacious. You had an upstairs, a downstairs and a beautiful staircase. You had a garage. You had a jetted tub! You were PERFECT!!! You were the next logical step in a relationship for Parker and me. You were the home to our prized and cherished possessions. Your expansive rooms gave our cats a place to place and play and explore. Just a few short weeks after our first visit and in what seemed like a whirlwind of activity, Parker and I found ourselves living inside your walls.
You were a shelter and briefly a home for two individuals who believed themselves in love. Yours were the walls where from within I found my voice, my strength, my courage. You were the place were tears were shed, smiles were exchanged, and love was shared. You were the place where some dreams were realized and still others were crushed. And still, hope lived on. You were the place where memories were made.
The day after closing on the house, my life-long dream of owning a baby grand piano come to reality. In your walls I was allowed to foster my skills as a pianist. You also were the birthplace of this blog. So many wonderful things came about within your walls. There were celebrations with friends inside your walls.
Some have questioned why we would live so far away from the city, far away from work and social activities. And, yes, the drive did become tiresome. The difficulty of maintaining the house became too much mentally, emotionally and financially. But that wasn’t your fault. You are four beautiful walls—walls, I suppose I’ll always remember.
Here’s my confession: Today, as I walked through you for what would be my final time, I reflected on the good times, the memories, the joy you brought into my life. I thought of the friends in the neighborhood I wouldn’t have known had it not been for your location. I thought of Parker, fondly, as I remembered the few months we shared there as a couple. For, it is on this date that I also remember the decision Parker and I made two years ago today, January 31, 2008, to separate as a couple.
I have no doubt that one day a fine family will once again inhabit your walls again. I hope for them that you will continue to provide warmth, shelter and a place where memories will flourish. For me, dear house, you provided so many wonderful opportunities. Regrets? Yes, I have a few. But, I’m thankful for the time we shared, for the memories I hold dear and for the hope I have of brighter days ahead.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
GRATITUDE 01.29.10
As I sit down to type this tonight, the sound of silence surrounds me. I’m feeling as though I’m in a peaceful, happy place. As I reflect on my life in the silence of this evening, the thought comes to me that there are quite possibly no greater gifts in this life than love and friendship. I’m grateful and humbled to have both in my life.
I have just come home from a great evening with Christopher and Grant at the opera. What an amazing evening of laughter and friendship. I’m grateful for the friendship with Trent, Gray & Kyle. I’m thankful for Lee & Jane. I’m grateful for the people who are part of my day-to-day life. I’m grateful each morning that I check my email and there’s a most often a message from Trent and another from Gray. These quick little messages mean so much to me.
I’m grateful for group of men who come together to form our men’s chorus. The chorus is a family, and it is a blessing to be a part of such a positive group of men. If I look back over the last two years of my life, my biggest step in growth came from accepting the challenge to walk into the doors of that first rehearsal. My life is forever changed for good because of it. I shudder to even imagine what my life would be like without my choir family.
I’m grateful that each day is a day of new beginnings. I’m grateful for my cats who share their love with in the way that only know how. I’m grateful for the grace and joy that surround me and the steps of hope in which I trod.
Here’s my confession: Life is about attitude. Over the time that I’ve developed an attitude of gratitude, it has made me appreciate the people and things in my life. The lyric to one of my favorite songs says “Simple truth will keep you going; simple love will keep you strong. There are questions without answers and flames that never die, and heartaches we go through are often blessings in disguise”.
It is so true in my life. The simple things in my life really are the things for which I am most grateful. It’s the people who love me for who I am, the people who accept me for who I am who I am, and see the man I’m going to be. That’s what I’m grateful for this week. And, it’s this gratitude that keeps me strong when it feels like everything else in the world is crumbling around me.
I have just come home from a great evening with Christopher and Grant at the opera. What an amazing evening of laughter and friendship. I’m grateful for the friendship with Trent, Gray & Kyle. I’m thankful for Lee & Jane. I’m grateful for the people who are part of my day-to-day life. I’m grateful each morning that I check my email and there’s a most often a message from Trent and another from Gray. These quick little messages mean so much to me.
I’m grateful for group of men who come together to form our men’s chorus. The chorus is a family, and it is a blessing to be a part of such a positive group of men. If I look back over the last two years of my life, my biggest step in growth came from accepting the challenge to walk into the doors of that first rehearsal. My life is forever changed for good because of it. I shudder to even imagine what my life would be like without my choir family.
I’m grateful that each day is a day of new beginnings. I’m grateful for my cats who share their love with in the way that only know how. I’m grateful for the grace and joy that surround me and the steps of hope in which I trod.
Here’s my confession: Life is about attitude. Over the time that I’ve developed an attitude of gratitude, it has made me appreciate the people and things in my life. The lyric to one of my favorite songs says “Simple truth will keep you going; simple love will keep you strong. There are questions without answers and flames that never die, and heartaches we go through are often blessings in disguise”.
It is so true in my life. The simple things in my life really are the things for which I am most grateful. It’s the people who love me for who I am, the people who accept me for who I am who I am, and see the man I’m going to be. That’s what I’m grateful for this week. And, it’s this gratitude that keeps me strong when it feels like everything else in the world is crumbling around me.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
PLACE IN THIS WORLD
“The wind is moving But I am standing still A life of pages Waiting to be filled A heart that's hopeful I head that's full of dreams But this becoming Is harder than it seems Feels like I'm Looking for a reason Roamin' for the night to find My place in this world My place in this world Not a lot to lean on I need your light to help me find My place in this world My place in this world” -Michael W. Smith
It is hard to believe that it has been almost 18 years since I stood before my graduating class and sang Michael W. Smith’s “Place in This World” for our baccalaureate service. I thought I had it all figured out back then. I was going to college, I was going to become a teacher and I’d be back in a few years at that same school teaching music and foreign language. The only part of that scenario that happened is that I went to college and got a degree in music. There were no teaching credentials, no mastery of any foreign language.
Instead, I found myself post-graduation moving to Birmingham, Alabama. I instantly fell in love with this place I have now called home for the last twelve years of my life. I’ve been going to the same job the entire time I’ve been here. My “day job” has nothing to do with music.
Lately, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what my place in this world truly is. The most comforting part of my journey is that I know today that I am not alone. In the last couple of years, I’ve been blessed with many people to accompany on the journey. I have friends—true and loving friends—who support me and give me thoughts on life. I think I’m in a transitional place. If someone had told me as recently as two years ago that I’d be where I am today, I’m not certain that I would have believed them.
Here’s my confession: I do often feel that the wind is moving, but I am standing still. I feel like there are many chapters left to be written. I’m just waiting on the opportunity to pursue those dreams that are still in my heart. I firmly believe that every single, minute detail of our lives is orchestrated in a way to lead us to the next step in life. Whether the next step is a new career, a new relationship or something else, I am ready to discover my place in this world. I’m looking for a reason, roaming through the night to find my place in this world. It’s frustrating as hell sometimes because I want to just get a glimpse of the vision RIGHT NOW. But, patience is part of the process in finding my place. It seems that I am, in many ways right back where I was eighteen years ago. Now, I’m just trusting in the hand of providence, the insight of my trusted friends and my own gut to go out there and find it, and if it isn’t out there to be found, create it. On my refrigerator hangs a magnet which says “Life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about CREATING yourself.” I like that. So, I go forth to find my place in this world…to create my place in this world. And I go in peace, hope and expectation, knowing that one day, probably when I least expect it—it will all come to full fruition.
It is hard to believe that it has been almost 18 years since I stood before my graduating class and sang Michael W. Smith’s “Place in This World” for our baccalaureate service. I thought I had it all figured out back then. I was going to college, I was going to become a teacher and I’d be back in a few years at that same school teaching music and foreign language. The only part of that scenario that happened is that I went to college and got a degree in music. There were no teaching credentials, no mastery of any foreign language.
Instead, I found myself post-graduation moving to Birmingham, Alabama. I instantly fell in love with this place I have now called home for the last twelve years of my life. I’ve been going to the same job the entire time I’ve been here. My “day job” has nothing to do with music.
Lately, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what my place in this world truly is. The most comforting part of my journey is that I know today that I am not alone. In the last couple of years, I’ve been blessed with many people to accompany on the journey. I have friends—true and loving friends—who support me and give me thoughts on life. I think I’m in a transitional place. If someone had told me as recently as two years ago that I’d be where I am today, I’m not certain that I would have believed them.
Here’s my confession: I do often feel that the wind is moving, but I am standing still. I feel like there are many chapters left to be written. I’m just waiting on the opportunity to pursue those dreams that are still in my heart. I firmly believe that every single, minute detail of our lives is orchestrated in a way to lead us to the next step in life. Whether the next step is a new career, a new relationship or something else, I am ready to discover my place in this world. I’m looking for a reason, roaming through the night to find my place in this world. It’s frustrating as hell sometimes because I want to just get a glimpse of the vision RIGHT NOW. But, patience is part of the process in finding my place. It seems that I am, in many ways right back where I was eighteen years ago. Now, I’m just trusting in the hand of providence, the insight of my trusted friends and my own gut to go out there and find it, and if it isn’t out there to be found, create it. On my refrigerator hangs a magnet which says “Life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about CREATING yourself.” I like that. So, I go forth to find my place in this world…to create my place in this world. And I go in peace, hope and expectation, knowing that one day, probably when I least expect it—it will all come to full fruition.
Monday, January 25, 2010
LOVE IS…
Love is the simple “good morning” email you receive from your best friends first thing in the morning. Love is a text random text message just saying hello. Love is the knowledge that while you are estranged from your own family, that there are friends who care enough about me to accept me exactly as I am. Love is having a family of choice to hold me up when my family of origin has seemingly turned their backs on me.
Love is the way my cat falls to the floor and rolls around and meows telling me about his day when I get home—and how my other cat feels the need to run to the food bowl to welcome me home.
Love is the memories shared by two old friends, and the moments that create new memories between new friends. Love is knowing that in both the new and old friendships there is a solace and peace.
Love is the song that lives in my heart, long after the music has faded. Love is the melody that flows from my fingers as they make their ways across the piano keyboard.
Love is the dream that on a not too distant tomorrow he’ll show up—somewhere out of the blue and sweep me off my feet, and I’ll know that he’s the one I’ve been waiting on.
Love is daring to accept myself as the beautiful, imperfect creature God created me to be. Love is daring to be true to those around me, to not hide the truth that I’m a gay man. Love is rejecting the pain others would inflict upon me because I am who I am. Love is standing up for myself.
And, above all, love is forgiveness—forgiveness for every idle word, for every hurtful thing, LOVE IS. Love is being the bigger person.
Here’s my confession: Love is a friendship so new and pure. Love is long established friendship with someone who knows everything there is to know about you and they still love you. Love is quiet, reverent and scared and love is also erotic, pure and the greatest command of all. Love is more than just a word--it's an action, a promise and a believe. Love is a mystery.
Love is the way my cat falls to the floor and rolls around and meows telling me about his day when I get home—and how my other cat feels the need to run to the food bowl to welcome me home.
Love is the memories shared by two old friends, and the moments that create new memories between new friends. Love is knowing that in both the new and old friendships there is a solace and peace.
Love is the song that lives in my heart, long after the music has faded. Love is the melody that flows from my fingers as they make their ways across the piano keyboard.
Love is the dream that on a not too distant tomorrow he’ll show up—somewhere out of the blue and sweep me off my feet, and I’ll know that he’s the one I’ve been waiting on.
Love is daring to accept myself as the beautiful, imperfect creature God created me to be. Love is daring to be true to those around me, to not hide the truth that I’m a gay man. Love is rejecting the pain others would inflict upon me because I am who I am. Love is standing up for myself.
And, above all, love is forgiveness—forgiveness for every idle word, for every hurtful thing, LOVE IS. Love is being the bigger person.
Here’s my confession: Love is a friendship so new and pure. Love is long established friendship with someone who knows everything there is to know about you and they still love you. Love is quiet, reverent and scared and love is also erotic, pure and the greatest command of all. Love is more than just a word--it's an action, a promise and a believe. Love is a mystery.
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